Terror
by marylwhit
Summary: Kurt starts receiving death threats. Rated 'T' for Violence.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi! This is my first ever Glee fanfic, hope you all enjoy!**_

_**x**_

* * *

Kurt woke with a start. Shaking, his whole body drenched in a cold sweat and lungs desperately crying out for oxygen as if he'd just run a mile. He wasn't quite sure if it was really early in the morning, or really late at night, either way, it was pitch black and eerily silent. Looking around his bedroom, he tried to focus his eyes, worried when after a few moments he still couldn't make out anything. He crawled out of bed and turned on the light, the sudden brightness stinging his eyes and making him flinch. According to his wall clock, it was 5am already, far to early to be awoken by his dad noisily slamming the car door as he left for work, and too dark for the birds to be waking the street up with their loud chirping. But it didn't matter, Kurt knew why he was awake, and why his heart was thumping in his chest - the nightmares. The same dream, over and over again every night for the past week. Every night he would lay in bed worrying until he fell asleep around 2 or 3, only to be awoken a few hours later in a terrified panic. Every night he watched himself die, killed by Karofsky. There was always a different method, sometimes he was shot, sometimes stabbed but every night he always ended up the same way - dead. He had to tolerate him at school, see his face every time he closed his eyes, and now he couldn't even escape when he slept. But it was Friday, only one more day and then the weekend - no Karofsky for two days - that was something to look forward to at least.

* * *

He's bruised before school even starts that morning. Kicked up the stairs and thrown into the lockers by Karofsky and his friends. Kurt expected it, it was the same punishment that met him every day, he had given up fighting long ago. It was easier when he had Finn, Puck and all the others looking out for him, but he couldn't expect them to protect him forever. So he told them he was fine, that Karofsky just wasn't a problem anymore, and they all just went back to their own lives, quick to forget.

The first bell rings, and Kurt takes time to get his books out of his locked. The door is dented and a thin trail of dry blood runs down the middle. _His _head print, and _his_ blood - yesterdays wounds - he was just relieved his dad hadn't noticed his nose, or the black eye. He stops for a moment, catching his reflection in a circular mirror framed with diamontes he'd hung inside the door. He jumps and spins around when he catches Karofsky's reflection next to his.

The boy - if he could be called that, he was more primate than anything - had him by the collar before he could do anything to help himself. The corridor was empty, the bully hadn't brought any friends this time and all the students were already inside their classes by now. Kurt was alone- completely vulnerable to whatever the other boy had in store.

Kurt felt his hot breath against his neck, felt his course tongue licking at his ear, and then words that made his heart stop.

_"I'm gonna kill you today."_

* * *

As he walked to Spanish, he told himself it was just another threat, that Karofsky would never actually kill him - that he was too much fun to knock around. But deep down Kurt knew he was serious. He swallowed hard, turning the door knob and being greeted by Mr. Schuester, smiling while he taught the class. When he saw Kurt he turned and gestured towards an open seat.

"Nice of you to join us, Kurt - take a seat."

Kurt paused for a moment in the doorway. It was as if everyone in the room had suddenly been transformed into clone versions of Karofsky, their faces contorted with laughter, all mocking him. He pushed them aside and sat down near the back, opening his text book and burying his nose in it. He knew he was starting to hallucinate. He hadn't slept properly in weeks, and he couldn't even remember the last time he ate properly. He didn't feel as staved when he was on the cheerios as he did now.

As Mr. Shue taught, another boy came in late. He was new, and Mr. Shue announced he had just transferred from some expensive elitist boarding school out west. It didn't matter, Kurt wasn't paying any attention. He was far to busy planning out how he was going to stay out of site for the day.

A tap on the shoulder made him jump and he immediately snapped out of his daze. He turned, and was quickly handed a note by the new boy.

"_Are you Kurt? Some guy outside told me to give this to you.." _

Kurt took the note without a word and turned around before Mr. Shue could see and take it from him. Before even opening it, he had an idea who it was from. His heart was already pounding and his hands had grown extremely sweaty and were shaking. He carefully opened the double folded piece of paper and read :

"_12pm. See you in the gym."_

Before, Kurt had felt scared. Terrified, even. But now, now he just felt numb. The gym was not in use at the moment, a pipe underground had burst and all students were banned from entering. Karofsky knew it would be days -weeks even, considering how long construction workers took - before anyone would go in there, and the place was completely sound proof, he could tie him up and leave him to die. The water would wash away any evidence leading to who did it.

Folding the note and slipping it into his pocket, he prayed for the bell to ring. He wasn't going to go to another class today, he had to make a decision about what he was going to do.

_But what was he going to do?_ The way he saw it there were three options - run, hide or die. This had gone on too long for him to tell anyone, plus, he'd have to tell about the kiss and then Karofsky would kill him anyway. He didn't live in some make-believe world, nobody ever did anything about bullying unless there was hard evidence - and they definitely didn't expel people for kissing. He could run home, he was athletic enough, he may just get there. But then what about his dad? He finished work at 12 on Fridays, and he'd surely ask why Kurt was home so early. He could hide in the choir room and lock the door, or in the library under the librarians nose, he could even intrude on Mr. Shue and force him to 'teach-him-how-to-sing-a-particularly-difficult-song' over lunchtime, but he knew none of that would work. He had to face Karofsky sooner or later, and it might as well be today. He had to die.

Kurt could feel his lips start to tremble and his eyes start to well up. He lifted his book up to cover his face from view, blocking out his classmates. A moment later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Assuming it was the new kid again, he ignored it. But when a familiar voice called his name, he looked up and was met with Mr. Shue's face.

Frantically rubbing his eyes, he shot his teacher a questioning look.

"Yes?" He asked, voice coming out far higher than it normally was as he struggled against the lump in his throat.

Mr Shue looked worried, he didn't wait to ask what was wrong - he had been concerned since Kurt walked in late for the first time ever - he picked up Kurt's bag and escorted him out of the room. Waiting until they reached the corridor to ask if he was okay.

"I'm fine." Kurt insisted, taking his backpack from Mr. Shue and forcing a smile. "I'm just feeling a little sick, I'm gonna go to the nurse..."

Kurt took a step towards the nurses office, but fell right into the wall as a dizzy spell washed over him. Mr. Shue caught him by the shoulders, steadying him and helping him lean against a locker for a moment.

"I haven't eaten... since, I don't know when.." Kurt explained, he didn't want Mr. Shue harassing him, thinking Karofsky was torturing him again. They all knew how much weight he lost last time it got bad.

"I'm going to the nurse.." He repeated, walking away and turning the corner, leaving his teacher standing in the hall, confused and worried.

* * *

Yet, Kurt never went to the nurse. He went to the library instead and hid in the filing room. Locking the door behind him, he sat down on the ground between two pillars of stacked up boxes and closed his eyes letting the thoughts run around in his head. It was 10am, another two hours - three if he was lucky - and he would be dead. He knew he should be writing some kind of letter to his dad, Carole and Finn but he didn't really have any words. Taking out a pen, he recovered the note from his pocket and jotted down on the back.

"_Play Defying Gravity at my funeral_."

He looked at it closely, a second later adding :

_"And NO GOD."_

That would have to do. His dad knew him well enough to know a Kurt Hummel funeral was supposed to be a spectacular event - _he would just know._

Kurt sat for another two hours, the time flying by so quickly. He spent the time worrying - not even about himself, really - but about his dad. He was so happy Carole and Finn had come into his life, his dad got a wife and he would have the son he had always wanted.

Kurt smiled at that, and it wasn't long after that he heard the usual ruckus that came with nine hundred high school students running down the corridor headed for the cafeteria. he promptly got up. He wasn't going to be late again today. Straightening his knee-length sweater, he exited the library and set off towards the gym.

* * *

As he passed the cafeteria, Kurt spotted Mercedes, Tina and Artie all sitting at a table. They smiled and beckoned him over. Checking his watch, Kurt saw he still had half an hour to spare before he had to be in the gym, so he figured he would put on a smile and go and talk to them.

"Hey Kurt, I missed you in Science today, where were you?" Mercedes asked, shifting over so Kurt had room to sit down.

"I had a dentist appointment this morning, I just got here." Kurt lied, hoping no one had seen him.

"But I saw you in the hall this morning, " Tina said, confused, "I called out but I don't think you heard me, you walked away."

"Oh yeah," Kurt said, "I came to into school.. then my dad called and reminded me about the dentist.. I never write anything down.." He forced a laugh, quickly changing the subject and stealing one of Artie's tots.

He watched his friends talk and laugh together,the group growing as Rachel, Finn, Quinn and Sam came over. He figured it would be a good time to slip out.

"Hey, I'm going to the library - history paper to research." He told Finn, letting his eyes gaze at him just a moment longer, knowing this was probably the last time he was going to see him. He wanted to say something, something like 'take care of dad', but he couldn't find the words. Instead he listened as Finn absently muttered, "Yeah, catch you later." Before turning back to Rachel.

* * *

The gym was colder than usual, and the floor was covered with a thin, foul smelling sticky goo. The construction workers had used a fluorescent pink spray can to mark where they were going to dig, and as far as Kurt was concerned it really didn't go with the beige walls or burgundy bleachers. But what did any of that matter know anyway.

He walked over to the basketball hoop, remembering the first time he'd fallen for Finn. He'd been messing around during gym class and ended up shooting a hoop blindfolded. They were young, and everyone went to jump on Finn, stacking up like a jenga tower, and Kurt forced his way to the centre, for some reason needing to be closer to Finn. He'd learned why that was years later. But that didn't matter either.

"Ladyboy!" A voice called and Kurt instantly knew it was Karofsky, he wasn't surprised to see he was alone this time - even he wasn't that much of an idiot to involve anyone else in this. Or maybe his friends chickened out? Or, they were hiding, or guarding the doors in case he ran? Whatever it was, Kurt was sure he would soon find out.

"So this is it?" Kurt asked, trying to be as confident as possible and failing. "Now I die?"

"Now you die." Karofsky confirmed, walking closer to the two were only inches apart.

"Why?" Kurt asked again, but he was met with Karofsky's fist straight into his jaw. After that blow came another, then another then another. He felt the blood pour from his nose and mouth, and stumbled back, desperately trying to flee. He wanted to change his mind and find help. Surely Finn, Puck and Sam could give Karofsky a run for his money. But then Kurt remembered, it really wasn't their problem at all.

Unbalancing, Kurt fell to the ground, a sneaker connecting with his ribcage, he lost count of how many times, all he knew was pain. His ribs must be shattered, he had no fat protecting him, and the three extra shirts he'd worn under his sweater really provided no adequate padding. He wrapped his arms around himself, assuming the fetal position the best he could and screaming out in pain as Karofsky's foot met his arm - he just knew it was shattered now.

Then the beating stopped, to afraid to open his eyes, Kurt just lay there shaking. His whole body in excruciating pain and covered in blood. Hie ears were ringing, and he felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness. Then he felt it. The final blow. But this time, it didn't come from Karofsky's foot, but an object.

Kurt watched in horror as Karofsky pulled out a knife, stabbing it forcefully into Kurt's abdomen and sitting for a moment as he watched the blood start to flow from Kurt's wound and turn his grey sweater crimson.

"Why?" Karofsky mocked, his voice deep and severe. "_Because you made me scared of who I am."_

* * *

**_There is is :) Please review if you want to see the conclusion.._**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hi, this is the next chapter, enjoy :)**_

* * *

Kurt couldn't believe he was actually laughing. The pain was incredible, his ribs were shattered, there was blood flowing from every possible outlet in his body, but he was laughing like a maniac. He couldn't understand _why_. He guessed it was some kind of survival technique,prevent himself from going into shock or falling into unconsciousness, the pain in his stomach - intensified tenfold as his body wracked with laughter - was keeping him conscious. Keeping him alive.

He must have been laying there for at least ten minutes, his hands firmly planted on his side, his head slanted as he watched the water on the floor carry the blood. As much as it hurt, the worst pain came from the knowledge that he was going to die alone in the gym. Again, he thought of his family, his dad's face when they found his body, then about who was going to get his things. The Funeral. Nothing effected him as much as when he pictured his dad having to bury someone else. He had Carole and Finn, but Kurt had to believe his death would still leave a big gaping hole in the new family, something not unlike the knife wound in his side.

He thought about that again and again, creating different scenarios in his head - his dad unable to stay with Carole and Finn, to broken from Kurt's departure, feeling nothing but guilt from not being able to recognize the signs, or for sending him to such a terrible school. Kurt realised how selfish he was being. He knew he was a drama queen and rather egotistical when he wanted to be, but this was on a whole new level. It didn't matter that he thought death was the only way out of this hell with Karofsky, he knew deep down it wasn't. He could spend the rest of his high school years running and hiding, even getting beat up every day wouldn't matter if it meant his family would stay together, happy, oblivious of his struggle. He didn't have to tell them he had been stabbed by Karofsky, he could say... that..

_He'd make something up later._

He gathered all the strength he could muster, pulling himself in to a sitting position. He felt dizzy, the room spinning before his eyes, but he pushed through it. Now he actually had to stand. Shuffling over to the basketball hoop, he used the pole to pull himself up, the maneuver literally ripping the wound open even more. Taking a step, he cried out in pain, falling forward and back to his knees. He needed something to help him stand, some kind of crutch, but even before his blurry eyes scanned the room, he knew he wasn't going to be able to find anything, he was going to have to do this on his own.

Staring at the wound, he knew it would be less painful if he could apply some kind of pressure, without thinking, he pulled off his sweater and two of the extra shirts he'd worn for padding, pushing the bundle hard against his side, now dressed only in a thin white t-shirts. He turned his nose up at himself, but this time he didn't even care how it made his collar bones look. This time he wasn't going to suffer for fashion.

Getting to his feet once more, he began to hobble over to the door, every step drawing tears. He tried not to think about it, only focusing on the doorway and getting out.

Inches away, he fell into the door, pulling on the handle only to find it was locked from the outside. He didn't think Karofsky would be smart enough, but clearly he had made sure Kurt had no chance of escape.

But now what?

The only other exit was through the changing rooms and out one of the windows -_unless they were locked too_ - all the way over the other side of the gym by the hoop. Kurt was far too determined to give up, even though it was easier to just sit down and die, he wasn't going to.

So he focused on the changing rooms, and although it felt like miles, he eventually reached the door, the handle easily turning and door swinging open. As he walked inside, Kurt was momentarily distracted from the pain by the _smell_. Apparently when a pipe burst, it smelt like a cross between the stale gym socks he found under Finn's bed when he cleaned their room, and the dumpster behind Breadstix. Screwing his face up in disgust, he kicked open a toilet cubicle door and climbed on top of the seat to reach the window.

It was three foot wide and only about two foot long, but Kurt figured his could squeeze through quite easily. He opted for legs first, so sticking his left out, he used his minimal amount of upper body strength to support his body while the right followed. Then, he took a deep breath, and just jumped - or rather, fell out the window. He knew it would hurt, but was surprised when the relief of finally getting out of the gym far out-weighed the pain.

Stumbling forward, his head spun far worse than before. If he'd eaten anything other than a single tot and a spoonful of splenda that day, Kurt was sure he would be on his knees throwing up by now. But he made his way across the field towards the main entrance. Even if lunchtime was over, there had to be someone around that could help him.

As he climbed the steps, he had to hold on to the railing for support. For the first time since Mr. Schuester had made them roll around in wheelchairs for a week, Kurt gave serious thought to Artie. The boy must have it tough, having to go all the was around the school to use the ground -level, back entrance. Kurt knew if a ramp had been put in when it should have, he would be taking that now, and not struggling to just to lift his feet high enough to reach the next stair.

Walking through the hallway, the place could be mistaken for a ghost town. Everyone was in class, doors were closed, and he couldn't hear even the faintest whisper from inside the classrooms. He didn't know for sure what time it was now, but he had heard the bell ring three times so far, so it must be half way through last period. He had choir practice after school and instead of hobbling into the first classroom he came to and collapsing on the floor, begging for help, Kurt decided - his mind in a state of pain-induced delusion - to call his dad from the choir room. It seemed the safest option. The idea of entering a class only to find Karofsky there, ready to finish him off for good this time, sent Kurt practically running down the hall and as far away from the classrooms as possible.

The choir room was only down the hall and to the left, far closer than the nurses office and as usual, Mr. Shue would probably be there soon preparing the newest assignment. If Karofsky turned up, Kurt knew he would be safe. He wasn't going to be _murdered _in front of a teacher.

Kurt did, however, hope he would be alone for a few minutes, just enough time to remove his bloody shirt and find something else to put on. He didn't want an ambulance, or the police, or his dad suing the school, he just wanted someone to come and pick him up. He'd worry about the wound when he was safe at home.

Sitting down on one of the familiar plastic seats, Kurt set down the stack of bloodied clothes he was using as a make-do bandage. He knew there were red button-up shirts in the costume closet they hadn't used since their 'Don't Stop Believin'' number and that was almost a year ago, he was sure nobody would miss them. The red would hide the blood, and if he layered the shirts there was no way anyone was going to tell he had a giant gaping knife wound in his side. Sliding from the seat and into the closet, he froze when he heard footsteps coming his way.

Through the widow, Kurt had clear view of the hall. He saw Mr. Schuester first, followed closely by Rachel who was beaming and dragging Finn by the arm, then trailing behind them, the rest of the Glee club. He ducked behind the closet door, his head poking out as he watched them enter. Kurt counted the members off as they came in, the last pair being Artie and Tina, and was surprised that the door remained open. He took a step forward, catching a glimpse of the familiar red and white football uniform that made his blood run cold. _Karofsky. _Had he watched him leave the gym? Followed him to the choir room?

He took another step, his eyes focused on Mr. Shue as he went to speak to _the pig_. There was some kind of confrontation going on between the two, and nosy, the Glee club all turned and walked over to the doorway, following their teacher. They were speaking loud enough - Hell, Mr. Shue was actually _yelling _at Karofsky - but Kurt's head was spinning far to fast to make sense of anything. He looked to his wound, his breath halting when he realized the absence of pressure had caused it to continue bleeding profusely, the left side of his electric blue jeans now a dark, rusty crimson color.

He took another step, legs shaking beneath him. His eyes were blurring again, specks of silver dancing before them. He met Karofsky's eyes, the other boy's mouth falling open as he froze for a moment before turning on his heel and racing down the hallway.

He tried to call out for someone, feeling himself beginning to slip back into unconsciousness,, but all he managed was a weak grunt before his legs gave out. His eyes closing, Kurt feels his head connect with the ground, and the vibration of what seemed like hundreds of pairs of feet rushing over to him, pass through his body.

* * *

**_Hope it was good. I may leave it here, or I could end it differently. Please review if you think I should add a conclusion. _**

**_Maybe if the reviews match the number of alerts i'll write some more ;)_**


	3. Chapter 3

_The final chapter (after my verrrrrrrrry long hiatus)_

* * *

Kurt woke up long before he opened his eyes.

_Am I dead?_

He lay still, voices and beeping all around him. He couldn't remember what happened or where he was until he began to feel the aching pain in his side, and it all came flooding back to him.

He shot up, his side screaming in agony and his vision fuzzy as his head spun around.

There was a hand on his shoulder, someone in front of him, speaking to him. He couldn't understand. He looked around, dazed. He saw a mass of brown hair to his left... black hair to his right... someone that was too tall... so many people. He found himself giving up and laying down once more.

_"Take it easy, Kurt."_ He deciphered. His dad's voice? He suddenly felt safer, and he was able to push through the drug-induced haze.

_"Mmmm..." _He groaned, voice failing him briefly. "Where am I?'

"You're in the hospital." Carole said softly. "Do you remember what happ-"

"That kid's gonna pay for this." Burt interrupted, seething as he looked over his son. Kurt could feel the anger pouring off him. "As soon as the police find him... just wait 'til I get my hands-"

"-BURT! He doesn't need this now."

Carole moved to help Kurt sit up, readjusting his pillows and straightening the crisp white sheets. He smiled at her. It kinda made him miss his own mother.

He realized he was surrounded by all his friends. A few of them looked like they'd been crying. He felt guilty.

There were boxes of chocolates stacked up on his bedside table, and a gigantic bouquet of tulips wrapped in shiny silver paper and tied up with a purple ribbon next to them. Tina came forward, Mike's arms around her waist, and placed a stuffed scarf-wearing penguin on to the bed next to him. He smiled at her, offering a weak, "thanks."

There was silence. No one quite new what to say. Burt's phone rang - a call from the police office - and he exited into the lobby, hoping they had found the son of a bitch that nearly killed his kid. Carole decided to follow him, leaving her 'sons' alone with their friends.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Asked Rachel, timid. "We would have done... something! We could have helped you."

"I'm your brother, dude." Finn added. "You should have told me."

Kurt was at a loss. He couldn't explain why he had been so quick to accept his fate, why he didn't fight it. All he knew was at the time - amongst the pain and fear - it had seemed like the right decision.

"I don't know why I didn't say anything." Kurt muttered. "I guess I didn't want you to think I was being melodramatic... I didn't want you guys to get hurt."

It was a weak excuse, but it would do. For now, at least.

Burt re-entered and shoved his cell phone into the pocket of his work overalls. They were covered in grease and in stark contrast to the fresh white sheets on the hospital bed.

"They found him." Burt said, exasperated. "Don't worry, Kurt. He's going to be locked up for a long time. I'll make sure he gets tried as an adult."

"No!" Kurt objected. The group stared at him, shocked.

"What do you mean no?" His dad asked, anger boiling again. "He tried to kill you!"

"I mean... I just want him to get help. He's confused. He's... it's just..." Kurt didn't want to tell them why Karofsky was confused, even after everything, he wouldn't betray anyone like that.

"You're delusional from the pain meds."

Kurt moved to get up from the bed. "I'm not. Dad, please listen..."

Burt rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and fore-finger. No matter what Kurt said, Karofsky was obviously not going to get away scot-free. But he wasn't going to fight about it now. Not when they had all been through so much that day.

"Just rest, Kurt." Burt ordered, giving in. "Your friends can come back tomorrow."

* * *

Karofsky was tried as an adult. No matter how Kurt tried to stop it from happening.

He couldn't believe how differently he saw the whole event after the trial, compared to when he first started to get the death threats. His terror had changed in to regret, and now he just felt... pity. Not for himself, but for Karofsky. Kurt was fine. At least that' what he told himself. The nightmares and the panic told his doctors otherwise. But his wounds had healed, and people at school actually stopped harassing him. The football team smiled at him in the corridor - they felt guilty, he knew. They had all seen and heard and done nothing to stop it. But he didn't care. It was nice not being dumped in the trash everyday. Even the Glee clubs reputation had increased.

Slightly.

But Karofsky would spend the rest of his life with a big black mark next to his name. He'd never get in to college, he wouldn't be able to play team sport, his friends had all washed their hands of him. All because he was too afraid to accept who he was.

Kurt visited him in prison a week after the trial, despite his dad's pleas not to go. Karofsky - or David, as he asked Kurt to call him - wasn't half as threatening in an orange jumpsuit, behind a thick pane of glass.

The boy begged Kurt for forgiveness. Told him he was going to spend the rest of his life regretting what he had done, that he should be locked away forever, that he was a murderer - even though Kurt hadn't died. Kurt told him he didn't know if he could truly forgive him yet. He didn't know if he ever could. David cried. Kurt left and never went back.

* * *

David and his father moved to Canada a week after David was released. Mercedes had told Kurt they were going to California. But apparently they had changed their minds at the last minute, not even the other side of the country was far enough away from Lima. From the torment, the smashed windows, from 'MURDERER' written in red paint across their garage, or from anonymous death threats in their mailbox. Kurt found it all rather ironic. He hoped Mr. Karofsky was getting his son the help he needed.

* * *

It was not until a year later that Kurt started to move on. He hadn't initially realized just how much the incident had damaged him, he'd been fine until he saw two students play-fighting in the cafeteria, using their butter knives as light sabers, and he lost it. But that was then, he acknowledged the past - but he refused to dwell on it. That's what he told himself. His therapist had taught him well.

He started going out alone again, something he hadn't been able to do for a long time. He was browsing nonchalantly at the record store when a boy, about his age, complemented him on his fur coat. They started talking, and Kurt found himself stretching out his arm to shake the other boys hand. Touch. Another thing he hadn't been comfortable with for a while.

"I'm Kurt." He offered, smiling.

Returning the smile, the other boy shook Kurt's hand.

"Blaine." He said.

* * *

_Hope you liked the final chapter, please review! :)_


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